Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(12)

I push out of the doors and into the quiet hallway. A girl approaches and my stomach sinks when I recognise her. Katherine, flanked by the two I saw her with in the cafeteria. I gird myself ready to walk by. Katherine is about to turn the corner towards a staircase when she stops. After whispering something to her friends, she walks over. With a cursory glance at me, she tips her head and looks at the red-haired guy.

"What are you doing with her, Clive?" She says the words as if I'm dirt on her shoe.

"I found her skipping class. And she isn't wearing her blazer."

Katherine's pink lips spread into a sly smile. "Oh, dear. Which teacher’s class is she missing?"

"Professor O'Reilly."

She chortles. "Trouble for you, Maeve."

I'm confused. Why aren't these people at class?

"I told Clive, I'm not on the advanced program."

Catherine and her friends share the same confusion Clive did. Clive interjects, "Apparently she doesn't take classes after nine p.m."

Katherine's confusion grows. "Why?"

"I presume she doesn't have any talent and her rich family are paying her way."

"Yes, but even Andrei needs to study after failing, and his family are loaded. Why would she get away with it?"

"Who knows?" says Clive.

They continue the conversation as if I'm not here and I consider sneaking away.

"Why aren't you at class, then? Or aren't you on the advanced program either?" I interrupt.

Katherine sneers and stalks towards me. "Petrescu house don't take all the classes. Some aren't relevant to us, so we take study periods."

"You look like you’re studying hard," I say, straightening my mouth and holding my ground.

"I have help with my studies." She rubs the corner of her lips and examines the fingertip for lipstick. "I have more important things to do than assignments, and extra help frees up my time."

"Maeve needs help," pipes up the girl beside her. She pulls her fingers through her long dark hair and smiles sweetly at me.

"Why should we help her?" Katherine retorts as if the girl spoke out of turn.

"She needs her house colours. Clive—speak to Walcott's head boy and organise a time for her."

"A time to do what?" I ask sharply.

"There's series of instructions you need to follow. He'll know what they are." Katherine's face brightens and she nods at Clive. "Tonight would be perfect, don't you think?"

"It's after eleven," I say. "I'll wait until tomorrow if that's okay. I'm sure Amelia could help arrange something. Or Jamie."

"What was the punishment for skipping class again?" asks Katherine, ignoring me.

Clive’s mouth curves into a sardonic smile. "Daytime detention and house points removed. Not the right way to get yourself off on the right foot with Walcott."

Perspiration slicks my back. I need to get away from these people; I'm cornered like an animal.

"I'll take the chance," I retort.

Clive moves past me and leans down to whisper something to Katherine. Her eyes widen and mouth forms an 'o'. "That's not possible," she says to him.

"It happened once before," puts in the girl on the other side, who's gawked at the conversation and not replied. "Remember Diana?"

"She didn't last long." Katherine says the words looking directly at me. "I think we should help Maeve. We wouldn't want anything to happen to her."





Chapter Seven





MAEVE



Katherine and company tell me they'll 'help' by chatting to the head boy and girl of my house. How kind. I hurry back to the Walcott common room, cursing myself for not retreating there earlier. A part of me would rather return to my room and hide, but I'm not allowing a group of bullies to scare me. Yes, I need to deal with the house colours issue, but not tonight.

There's a small kitchen adjacent to the common room where I make myself a hot chocolate, sneaking marshmallows and two spoons of sugar into the cup. I curl up in a soft blue armchair and pull out my phone to text Tessa. Then I notice the time. She never puts her phone on silent, and I'd cause issues if I woke her up this late on a school night.

I'm determined to plead with my family to allow me home for the weekend; I can't stay here 24/7 when I meet people who dislike me at every turn.

The warm drink soothes and sends me into memories of happy days. Mum would make hot chocolate for me as a treat to cheer me up, on days bullies upset me for my weirdness. Story of my life. I suck on a molten marshmallow. Should I wait up and see who stops by before turning in for the night, or head to bed now? I'm unlikely to calm down enough to sleep any time soon, thanks to the combination of adrenaline and sugar. I push my ear buds in, rest my feet on the table beside my empty mug and close my eyes.

I'm dozing while listening to music and the door bangs, jerking me to alert. I open a sleepy eye and see Jamie frowning down at me. He speaks but I can't hear, so I pull out my earbuds.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he says.

I focus on every inch of this Jamie to stop my brain focusing on the bloodied version. Jamie isn't as tall as Ash, or as lithe as Andrei, but he's built with more strength than many guys his age. Ash has a rugby player’s body; Jamie a swimmer’s—long legged and lean with strong shoulders. His serious expression gives him a broody look that would give Andrei a run for his money. The difference is, I doubt Jamie realises how to craft his look into a mysteriousness that girls fall for.